


Imposition

by TaylorMay1912



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2020 Coronavirus Isolation Period, Abusive John Winchester, Adult Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Castiel and Dean Winchester are the Same Age, Closeted Dean Winchester, College | University Student Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers, Literature, M/M, Openly Gay Castiel (Supernatural), POV Castiel (Supernatural), Repressed Bisexual Dean Winchester, Teacher Castiel (Supernatural), Teacher-Student Relationship, This is a lockdown fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorMay1912/pseuds/TaylorMay1912
Summary: Castiel Novak is a respectable teacher. Dean Winchester is a good student. After months of emailing back and forth, the two built up a camaraderie that has confused Castiel to no end.How is he going to manage to keep his distance from Dean when the space between them gets shorter and shorter?
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Somewhere or other, may be near or far;

**Author's Note:**

> Please bear in mind, I have done little research on anything, and I am aware of how delicate a subject the pandemic is. But since it is 2020, and since I've read a few quarantine fics already, I kinda wanted to give it a try. Please let me know what you think.

Castiel was an honest man. He worked hard for the job that he has, and it had paid off. After years of working through relentless exams, surviving on nothing but Ramen noodles and cans of tuna for who knows how long, and gruelling assignments, he had successfully managed to land himself a comfortable job as an English university professor.

Sure, the pay could be better, and sure, he could be doing a thousand other things with his double degree in literature and linguistics, but Castiel maintained he _chose_ to teach because he loves the students, which wasn’t exactly a lie. It also helped that he had a second job as a freelance editor, he supposes.

In his first year of teaching, he became particularly fond of the students from his very first class. _Gothic Literature_. It was a second-year English Literature subject, and there were only ten students there to teach. Most of them were fairly quiet and kept to themselves, but there was one student he couldn’t help being taken by. The way his eyes would light up when Cas verbalised possible connections between theories, the way he would give Cas a secret laugh whenever the teacher attempted to crack a joke― he knew the student’s reactions were skirting dangerous territory, but Castiel didn’t mind. As long as he maintained an amicable distance between himself and the man, surely there would be no issues.

But alas, Castiel should’ve known it was foolish to hope for such a thing.

The first instance arrived towards the end of the semester when everybody was scrambling to pull together their presentations regarding one of the many stories they’d studied during the course. Castiel had dismissed the class early, in favour of letting them out to enjoy the one nice day of early summer weather they’d had in a while. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t uncomfortably hot, and there were only scattered white clouds floating in the azure sky. Cas cleared off the whiteboard with a small smile on his face when he heard a gentle cough from behind him.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas held the whiteboard eraser to his chest. “You startled me,”

“Sorry, Cas,” The man smiled lazily, his green eyes sparkling with humour for a fleeting moment.

“Is everything alright?” Cas noticed Dean started rubbing the back of his neck, and it took everything in the teacher not to focus on the way the man’s muscle fought against the tightness of his shirtsleeve.

“I...had a question, and it isn’t exactly...well, what I mean is, I...” He drew in a deep breath before locking his green eyes onto Cas’ face. “I have a personal question, regarding, uh...home life? I guess? Or more...ah,”

“Dean,” Cas deliberated for a moment, keeping his eyes firmly on Dean’s face to try and catch the student’s expressions. “Is everything okay at home? Is it something you want to talk about but feel like you can’t?” Castiel wasn’t an idiot. He had seen Dean pull up to school some days with heavy bags under his eyes, and there was more than one occasion where the man had come into class rocking a few bruises on his hands and face. Whenever Cas would bring it up, Dean would shrug it off as ‘just messing around with some friends’, but there was always a brief moment, a skittish flicker in Dean’s eyes, that made Cas nervous.

“I...” Dean’s voice crumbled, and he fiddled with the strap of his bag slung around his shoulder. “I was wondering if you knew the best place to contact if, ah, umm...” Castiel couldn’t bear to see the usually confident man look so fragile. He opened up his desk drawer and pulled out the business card for the school counsellor.

“I know this isn’t much, but if there are any issues at all, and you feel the need to talk about them with a professional, in a controlled environment, you can always reach out to Ms Masters,” He tapped the name on the top of the business card. “She’s a wonderful person, and will be more than capable of helping you navigate any issues,”

“Oh,” If Dean’s face could crumble more, it did. Castiel’s heart couldn’t take it, so he gave Dean a hesitant smile as he pulled his pen out of his shirt pocket, and clicked it on.

“If you’d like, I can give you my personal email address, and you can reach out to me at any time as well. Please bear in mind, I am not a trained professional in the ways of counselling, but if you need someone to talk to without fear of judgement,” He scrawled on the back of the card. “You can count on me, Dean. No matter the issue, I am happy to listen to you. Even if you just want to discuss your reasoning behind why you believe Dracula was madly in love with Johnathon Harkness,” That earned him a wobbly chuckle.

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean took the card from Cas, squeezing his hand before they parted. “I really appreciate it.”

It showed in the coming emails Dean had sent him. They never discussed the class they have together, but they discussed _everything else_. It was from these emails Castiel learned Dean was twenty-six years old, only a year younger than Cas himself, and had been helping out at the local mechanics’ for the better part of seven years. Castiel learned Dean dotes on his little brother Sam, who is currently living in the big city studying to become a lawyer. Dean lost his mother when he was four years old, and he’s still stuck living with his dad, even though it makes him nervous. When Cas asked Dean to expand on why, Dean avoided answering the question, and that was the end of it.

Pretty soon, Cas realised he was unconsciously looking forward to reading the emails from Dean. They’d been coming in every two or three days for the past seven months. Cas wasn’t quite sure when ‘in case you need to talk’ turned into ‘talk to me about everything’, but he had become dangerously fond of his friend. He can call Dean a friend now since they don’t have any classes. Dean had even tried to organise to catch up once or twice, and Cas only had to cancel the second time because of a faculty meeting. But now it was New Year's Eve, and it hit him like a gale-force wind. He was getting _too fond_ of his ex-student, and it was interrupting his dating life. Instead of going out bar-hopping with his work husband, Balthazar, Cas was lounging on his couch at 10 pm, curled up in his old favourite cardigan, sipping hot toddy and waiting for Dean to send through his email.

“Castiel Novak, you’re pathetic,” He muttered to himself, pulling up Dean Winchester’s Facebook profile. There wasn’t much information available to him, however, since he hadn’t sent through a friend request. He was too chicken to do it, and he figured since Dean hadn’t commented on it either, perhaps it was pushing the boundaries of their cautious friendship. He sighed wistfully, hovering his mouse over the ‘Add Friend’ button. His phone vibrated next to his arm, startling him. He went to check it and frowned at the raucous picture of Balthazar sitting in the middle of a group of eleven other people with the caption: ‘ _Wish you were here. I’m in the middle of teeing up a ménage a...what’s the French word for ‘twelve’, Cassie?’_ with a winking emoji ending the text. He shook his head disapprovingly at his friend, before turning back to Facebook.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. He _clicked_ ‘Add Friend’ in his fright! Dean was going to see the request and think it was weird, it was too much, he’s a stalker, he’s a creep...

A new messenger box popped up in the bottom corner of his Facebook page. It was from Dean.

**Dean:** _Hey there, Cas! Whatcha up to on this fine New Year’s Eve?_

This was the second instance of Castiel breaking his carefully-constructed control. At least with the emails, there was still an air of formality between them. Dean always started his emails with a need for assistance, even if it was helping on a tiny little piece of writing. But here? All pretences could be dropped. This was dangerous.

**Castiel:** _Hello Dean, I hope you don’t think it too forward of me to add you as a friend on Facebook. As for your question, I’m not up to much, just staying indoors and drinking. What are you up to?_

Cas chewed on his nails as he watched the little grey box with the three dots hover in the corner of the chat. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad? Perhaps Cas can relax, and just be Dean’s friend. They’re in the same age group, and he no longer has a Duty of Care for him, since he is no longer his student. This is okay. There’s nothing illegal or even questionable about this. Right?

**Dean:** _Well, I was going to go out to a party with Lee and Benny, but Dad’s...not having a good night tonight._

Cas zeroed in on those final few words. The only information Cas managed to get out of Dean about John Winchester was he isn’t exactly a role model. There had been a few emails asking if Cas knew anything about alcoholism and whether it was a hereditary thing or just a learned trait. Heart in his throat, Cas responded.

**Castiel:** _Are you okay? Are you safe, Dean?_

The response was immediate.

**Dean:** _Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just want to get out of the house before Dad gets angry._

**Castiel:** _Why would John get angry?_

**Dean:** _He’ll find something to get angry about. Always does. Last night it was because he spilled his beer on the floor. I think he’s mad at me, tonight._

**Castiel:** _Dean. Why would he be mad at you?_

**Dean:** _Because he doesn’t like my friendship with Benny and Lee. He...uh...calls them..._

There was a moment where Cas didn’t see the grey bubble pop up. His tongue dried up as he remembered all the bruises and the nervous twitches. The bubble popped up again, and something in Cas clicked. He _needed_ to help Dean. That wasn’t even a question.

**Dean:** _Sorry, Dad came in looking for his bottle opener. Thought I had it._

**Castiel:** _Dean, come over. You can crash here for the night. Please._

Castiel hit ‘send’ before he could second-guess himself. The silence was deafening, and he watched the grey bubble flicker up, and disappear, before coming back.

**Dean:** _Are you sure? I don’t want to be an imposition._

Cas let out a mirthless laugh as he typed his response.

**Castiel:** _You could never be an imposition. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. Please._

**Dean:** _Thank you. I’ll be over as soon as I can._

**Castiel:** _It’s not a problem, I’ll be here._

The shaking in Cas’ fingers couldn’t stop, even as he took in deep breaths to try and quell the jitters. A new message popped up from Dean.

**Dean:** _Uh, Cas? Don’t suppose you could give me an address to get to? :)_

**Castiel:** _Of course, my apologies. 87 Wisteria Way. I’ll make up the guest bed for you._

**Dean:** _I’m happy to crash on the couch, Cas. Please. I don’t want to impose on you._

**Castiel:** _Dean. You are my guest, and that is the reason I have a guest bedroom. Please. I’ll consider it an imposition if you **don’t** take the bed._

**Dean:** _If you say so, Cas. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes or so._

Cas logged out of Facebook and held his face in his hands for a moment.

Offering a place to stay to escape his abusive, alcoholic father for the night? That’s another chink in Castiel’s plan to maintain an amicable distance. Knowing the man was going to be just on the other side of the wall of his bedroom might just drive Castiel mad. But it’s okay. They’re friends. Friends do this, right? Friends offer other friends a place to crash now and then. Cas has offered the same guest bedroom to Balthazar a handful of times over the years. This is a similar thing, right?

Castiel kept the lie in his head the entire time he made up the bed. He held onto the lie even as he went through the guest bathroom and swept away any lingering dust. He still kept thinking everything was in the name of friendship right until he opened up the door to see Dean Winchester standing in his front porch light.

“Heya Cas,” Dean breathed, travel bag slung over his shoulder. Cas got a good look at him. He was wearing an old grey Metallica shirt with small rips near the bottom hem, a purple and black plaid shirt, his blue corduroy jacket and his Dad’s old leather jacket. His jeans were so washed out at the knees, Cas could see the denim becoming threadbare enough to start tearing. His boots were the same as they’d always been, old and battered but still holding together. Cas smiled until he noticed a cut on Dean’s upper lip, blood bubbling slightly.

“What happened?” He frowned, gesturing for Dean to come inside. As soon as Dean entered, Cas turned the lock on the front door and switched off the porch light. He silently pointed Dean towards his kitchen, where he knew he kept a first aid kit under the sink. Dean glanced around nervously through the house, but he still settled down against the kitchen counter and let Cas fuss over his lip without much complaint. There was a quiet contemplation in his eyes, and Cas didn’t push the man for an answer to his question. He knew he’d get something eventually. As Cas pressed the sealant into Dean’s lip, Dean’s eyes finally met his.

“Dad yelled at me,” His voice came out fragile and scared. Cas didn’t say anything as Dean cleared his throat, and the man continued in a gruff voice. “He thought I was running off to go hang out with Benny and Lee. Even after I explained I was coming over to see you, and I’m sorry, but I said ‘Cas’ and he assumed you were a woman, I’m so fucking sorry,” Cas gave him a small smile to let him know it was okay. “But he didn’t believe me, and he started yelling and calling my friends...ah...”

“Colourful choice words, you could say?” Cas raised an eyebrow, noticing his hand was still resting on Dean’s cheek. He went to pull away, but there was a flicker of...something, in Dean’s eyes that kept his hand glued to his skin.

“He called me the same.” With those words, Cas couldn’t hide the anger on his face. He knew Dean caught the change in his face. “And I guess, he’s right. I’m...I...I’m not straight, Cas. I’m bisexual.”

“That’s okay, Dean. I understand,”

“No, you don’t,” Dean frowned, and there was a flush in his cheeks that looked so lovely, offset the freckles on his face so well, that Cas momentarily forgot what Dean said. He met Dean’s expectant gaze, and it clicked.

“Dean. Are you...is this the first time you’ve told anyone?” Dean tried to answer him with words, but all that came out of his mouth was a small sigh, and he nodded. Cas gently ran his thumb along his cheekbone. “Thank you for trusting me. You’re safe here, you know that, right?” Dean nodded again, and tears started to fall from the man’s eyes. Cas caught some of them on his thumb, but he felt Dean begin to squirm to avoid the emotion. Cas wasn’t having it though, and he pulled the other man into his arms. Dean gasped as his face rested against his shoulder.

Cas didn’t know how long they stood there, but he didn’t want to be the first to break the hug. He knew Dean needed this, he needed to know he was safe with Cas. He could give Dean this, could shelter him from the storm of the world outside. Dean’s phone started to buzz loudly, and they broke apart abruptly.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled, and he switched off the alarm on his phone. He gave Cas a watery smile. “Happy New Years, Cas,” Castiel’s eyebrows shot up.

“Wait, it’s midnight?” Dean nodded. “Happy New Years, Dean.” He smiled.

“Here’s hoping 2020’s a good one.” Dean tilted his head, glancing down at Cas’ lips before letting out a small sigh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired,”

“Same here. Your bed’s all made up for you, and you’re welcome to use the shampoo and conditioner left in the bathroom if you need to.” Cas gave Dean’s shoulder a warm squeeze, and Dean gave Cas’ hand a thankful squeeze back.

“Thankyou Cas. I’ll find a way to pay you back,”

“You’ll do no such thing, Dean. My home is your home if you ever need it.” The words came out without a second thought, and Cas felt his pulse pick up at the insinuation. But Dean gave him a genuine smile, and Cas forgot to worry about it.

Right up until the week before the university was coming back, Dean would crash at Cas’ whenever he got the chance. To begin with, Dean would use a whole lot of different excuses.

_Oh, Dad’s not in a good mood today._

_Oh, Dad’s got a lady friend over tonight and I wanna make myself scarce._

_Oh, I wanted to show you some of my favourite movies, because how have you not seen ‘Star Wars’ yet, Cas? That’s just upsetting._

Now, Dean didn’t even have any good excuses. He would just send Cas a text message asking if he was home, and within two minutes of Cas responding positively, the roar of the Impala could be heard crawling into Cas’ driveway.

Dean had even started keeping a few of his things in the guest wardrobe. Not that Cas minds. He washes Dean’s clothes, folds them away, and doesn’t say anything. When Dean comes around from a long day working at Singer’s Salvage Yard, covered in motor oil and grease, Cas asks Dean to leave his clothes outside the guest bathroom, and he makes sure Dean has them ready to go for the next morning.

There was a sweet type of domesticity about it, and Cas was more than happy to keep it up. He kept coming up with different ways to approach asking Dean to stay with him full-time, but every time he went to ask, Dean would let out this jovial laughter, and the question would die on Cas’ lips. He forgets everything when Dean laughs with his whole body, even his damn name. If only there was some way to get him to stay, some outside force that required Dean to become bound to Castiel’s house. But he always banished the thought, since it dances close to kidnapping behaviour, and Cas was _not_ up for entertaining any dangerous notions like that.

“So, what are you teaching this year?” Dean scooped his Mushu pork into his mouth with a fork. They were perched on Cas’ lounge room couch, with some old Western playing on the TV, but both Dean and Cas have watched it together before. It was another thing Dean yelled at Cas for having not watched, and he had rectified it quickly. Cas enjoyed the movie, but he wasn’t too sure how much of his reason for enjoying the film stemmed from the actual movie itself, or the fact Dean had fallen asleep on Cas’ shoulder and snuggled into his chest as the credits rolled.

“ _American Literature_ , _Gothic Literature_ and _Short Story_ for second year, and I’ve been asked to take on _Reading and Writing Poetry_ this year as well,” Cas smiled as he pulled more of his Pad Thai towards his lips with chopsticks. Dean made a surprised noise.

“Oh, I’m, uh...I’m taking the poetry class this year,” He blinked, and Cas froze. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. “Is that, uh...is that going to make things weird for you?” As Cas’ brain rebooted back up, Dean chewed on his lip. Cas placed his noodle box down on the coffee table.

“It doesn’t have to be,” He smiled at the other man. “We’re friends, and we can continue being friends, Dean. The school only doesn’t look kindly on romantic relationships, and even then...” Dean cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve heard some things...rumours surrounding a handful of my colleagues,”

“Oooh, I love hearing gossip,” Dean smirked, pulling his limbs up onto the couch to sit cross-legged and facing Cas, the movie forgotten.

“Ah, I probably shouldn’t indulge...” But Dean had Cas wrapped around his fingers.

“Aw, please, Cas?” One look at those gorgeous green eyes and lightly flushed cheeks had Cas melting faster than ice in a firestorm.

“Balthazar...and Crowley...and I’ve heard that Zachariah had a few late-night flings with some desperate students,”

“You think the students were desperate?” Dean withered, and Cas blanched.

“Sorry, no I do not. I unintentionally quoted Ms Rosen. She’s the faculty gossiper. Believe me, I think it irresponsible and manipulative of the teachers for crossing that line, especially in the case of Zachariah. He did it for the power trip,”

“Power trip?” Cas stared incredulously at Dean. “What, I don’t know what you mean. What kind of power trip are you talking about?”

“Dean, as a teacher, we have a Duty of Care for our students. We have a level of authority over these students, even if they’re fully-grown adults and are perfectly capable of making their own decisions. There are moral issues surrounding teacher-student relationships, you know this,”

“Well, yeah. I also know it’s a very, _very_ popular category on Pornhub, and I get the student side of it. There’s a power trip there, too, Cas. The knowledge that, out of everyone in the class, _you’re_ the one who knows what the teacher sounds like in the throes of passion,” Dean leaned forward, his eyes burning with an intensity Cas had never seen before, but oh God it was intoxicating. “Only _you_ know the taste of their skin when they’re begging for release. Only _you_ know what it takes to make the teacher come undone.”

There was a live wire writhing around under Cas’ skin. Dean’s words flooded it with too much electricity, and it flickered into his heart. He was close to burning out. He just needed one touch, one breath, one _taste_...

Dean’s phone rang shrilly from his pocket. Both men threw themselves back so hard, Cas knew his lower back was going to be aching tomorrow morning. Dean refused to meet Castiel’s eyes as he answered his phone.

“Dean speaking. Uh-huh. Hey Ellen, how are you? Nah, I’m not doing anything. What’s up?” Dean crawled off the couch and made his way towards his room, slamming the door shut. Cas crumbled as the echoes made their way into his heart. He knew he was falling too hard, too fast for this man, and it was going to cost him his friendship and his job. He needed to put that distance back up between them. It was better this way. It had to be, because at least this way, he gets to keep Dean in his life. Not in the way he wants, but he needs to keep Dean Winchester around to keep a handle on his sanity.

So he did, and he did it well. Whenever Dean would message asking if he was free, Cas would keep busy by catching up with Balthazar more. He didn’t completely shut Dean out, though, still keeping up an amicable conversation whenever they were in class, but he kept it strictly related to schoolwork. Even though he knew it would become easier in the long run, all he could feel was pain like barbed wire wrapped around his heart. Every breath he took caused his heart to pulse harder into the barbs, and he knew the one thing that could staunch the bleeding, was the one thing he can’t have.

Finally, they’d reached March. Everything was going well. Spring was in full bloom. He’d heard on the news about this deadly virus going around, but as long as everyone kept their distance and washed their hands, there should be no cause for alarm. Cas ignored the climbing number of cases in his home state. It was the 28th of March, and Cas had finally started to get a handle on online learning. The teachers were given a week to learn how to manoeuvre and utilise Zoom to their utmost ability since the number of cases wasn’t stalling. Just in case.

He decided to take a break and jump onto Facebook, where he saw three messages from Dean. Letting out a heavy sigh, he clicked on the blinking box.

**Dean:** _Dad found out._

**Dean:** _I don’t know how, but he found out I’m bi. He kicked me out._

**Dean:** _I know you’ve been keeping me at arms-length because of class and all that. And I hate that I even have to stoop to this. But Cas. Would it be okay if I crash at yours? Just until I get back on my feet. I’ve got all my stuff in the Impala, there’s not much. As soon as I get my own space, trust me, I’m out of your hair. Nobody else has space for me._

Cas felt his heart break and lurch at the same time. He didn’t even think as he typed, his heart thinking his brain should take the passenger seat for a while.

**Castiel:** _Of course. I told you. My home is your home if you ever need it. Come around. I’ll help you unpack._

**Dean:** _Thankyou Cas. I don’t deserve you. I really, really don’t._

When Dean pulled up, Cas came outside to stand on the porch, gesturing for Dean to pull the car into the garage. Dean stuck his head out.

“Are you sure, Cas? I’m happy to park outside the garage,”

“Don’t be stupid, Dean. She’s your Baby. She deserves to be housed properly,” Cas smiled at him, but his stomach dropped as he noticed the dark shading colouring Dean’s face. “Dean.”

“What?” He revved the engine as the car nestled into the available space. Dean climbed out, one of the boxes pulled to his chest like a shield. But stepping into the light of the garage meant Cas could see the bruises and blood clearer. Cas gasped. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t exactly sober when he kicked me out. I’m just lucky the bruises will fade,”

“What does that mean?” Dean was already making his way towards the door into the house. Cas sighed before he clicked the button to close the garage door. Cas saw another box of things sitting in Dean’s car, so he pulled it out and followed Dean’s path towards his room. As he reached the door, Cas felt his phone go off in his pocket. He walked into Dean’s room, where Dean was sitting on the bed, staring at his phone. “Everything okay?”

“Check your phone,” Dean’s voice was devoid of emotion. Cas frowned, and pulled out his own phone. It was an emergency message, sent out by Kansas State Police, with regards from the State Government.

‘ _As part of ongoing efforts to limit the spread of novel coronavirus in Kansas, today Governor Laura Kelly issued Executive Order 20-16, making Kansas the 22nd state in the nation to institute a temporary, state-wide stay-home order. It will exist in conjunction with the Kansas Essential Function Framework for COVID-19 response efforts and will take effect at 12:01 a.m. on Monday, March 30. The measure will be in place at least until Sunday, April 19...._ ’ Cas’ hands trembled. Three weeks? Dean would be stuck with him for _three weeks_? With no reason to leave the house except for food shopping and medical exceptions?

“I’ll find a place to stay before the order comes into effect. I’ll just crash here tonight, and then I’ll see if Ellen might be able to...”

“Don’t,” Cas felt like he was hearing himself from another point of view. His voice was so distant from his body. “You can stay here, Dean. Please.” Silence nestled itself over the two men, who sat there staring at their phones.

“Okay. I promise I’ll keep out of your hair.”

Well. That was the final chink in the weakened guard he had surrounding his friendship with Dean. There was no way this was just an amicable friendship now. They were locked together, for at least three weeks.

If Cas hasn’t lost his fucking mind by then.


	2. as moon fires set in my throat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to aim for roughly the same amount of words for this second chapter, but it seems I couldn't do enough braining to make the words go. Oh well.
> 
> Also, this is where sexual references start to kick in, so you're aware. There's nothing too explicit at this point, and I will make a point to highlight if something is overly explicit in upcoming chapters.
> 
> Happy holiday season!

As soon as the news broke, Cas received an email from the Head of the English Department of the university, Ms Naomi Tapping, asking for the faculty members to join in on a Zoom meeting to go over all their agreed protocols. Cas typed out a private email for Naomi, informing her he has a student staying at his place. He hesitated as he tried to think of the best way to explain the situation.

“Cas?” There was a gentle knock at his study door. Cas turned in his swivel chair, elbows resting on the arms. “Um,” Dean looked nervous. “What are we going to do as far as classes go?”

“What do you mean, Dean?”

“Well, what’s the plan for teaching? I vaguely remember getting an email asking to be prepared for Zoom links to attend lectures and classes, but, ah,” He averted his gaze. “Where would be the most appropriate place for me to set up my laptop?” Cas glanced down to see Dean’s silver laptop in his arms, that looked almost as old as Dean himself was.

“Okay, first of all, you’re welcome to use my personal laptop for classes, and anything else, for that matter,” Cas held up his hand as he saw Dean start to argue. The other man fell silent, and Cas continued. “Secondly, you can make your set up where-ever you wish. I’m fairly certain there’s a desk in your room, and it’s been poorly neglected for quite some time,”

“If you don’t mind my asking, Cas,” Dean raised an eyebrow and gestured around him. “But how’d you score this place? Unless you’re secretly a meth kingpin, there’s no way you can pull digs like this on a college professor salary,”

“Why would you think I’m a meth kingpin?”

“ _Breaking Bad_. Come on, man,” Dean shook his head. Cas stared blankly. “I’m going to use this lockdown time to educate you further in all things pop culture. Dear Lord. But come on, spill. How’d you get the cushy set-up?”

“This house was the final thing my father gifted me before he died,” Cas sighed, bringing his hand to his neck. “The intention was for me to use the old family house for my future family, but it’s been ten years since he passed, and I’ve yet to do so,”

“Well, hey, don’t sell yourself short. You’re only twenty-seven, dude. Plenty of time to find yourself a woman,” Dean huffed a laugh. Cas frowned and tilted his head as he gazed at Dean. “What?”

“I can’t believe we’ve been friends for as long we have without you...I could’ve sworn I mentioned I was gay,” The words came out in a mumble. Judging from the look of surprise on Dean’s face, Cas must’ve forgotten to mention it. “Sorry, I truly thought you knew that.”

“It’s no sweat. Still doesn’t limit you at all. Just gotta find you a guy. Technically, if you wanted to, you wouldn’t even need anybody else. You’d crush the ‘single parent’ role, no dramas at all. Plus, I love kids. Always happy to help out if you ever needed it,”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dean,” Cas smiled wryly. “But there’s no need to stress about any of that just yet. I’m happily single for now,” He paused to consider. “Well, ‘happily’ probably isn’t the best way to describe it,”

“You’re kinda stuck with it at this point? Yeah, I get what you mean,”

“I thought you were dating Lee? Or has that ship sailed?” Cas frowned.

“Oh no, no no no, Lee and I were never...ah,” Dean blushed, and Cas bit his lip to hide his smirk. “We were never exclusive,”

“Ah, so,” He let his smirk come out in full force. “You were fuck buddies.” Cas huffed out a chuckle at the sight of Dean’s eyes widening and his mouth falling open in shock. “Why, Dean, you look surprised that I know what that even means,” He tutted. “I’m not _completely_ naive, you know. Also, been there, done that, wrote a book because of it actually,”

“Huh?” The sound was barely human, and Dean still looked completely blindsided. Cas chuckled.

“You didn’t think I’d be able to maintain the bills for a place like this on just a professor’s salary and my freelance job, did you?” He shook his head. “I’m a writer as well, Dean. Apparently, the public mildly enjoyed my salacious novel about a barely-nineteen me traipsing around the European countryside with a successful British businessman,”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on,” Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’ve heard of that, uh, _Centrefold Dreams of A Misled Teen_ , that’s it, right?”

“Have you read it?” Cas felt his mouth go dry. If Dean had _read_ the novel, then he’d know what Castiel had gotten up to with Mick during that summer―

“No, but my friend Charlie did. She loved it, but she was really annoyed when she kept trying to find more of the writer’s works. Did you use a pseudonym or something?”

“Yes, well, I figured the fallout from the novel could be forwarded to Emmanuel Allen,” He shrugged. “But you’d do best not to mention that to your friend. I chose a pseudonym for a reason. If it got out that a college professor from Kansas got up to all _that_...I shudder to think,” Cas smirked.

“Cas, you’re making me want to read this damn book now,”

“Please, I beg of you, unless you _want_ to be fed obscene details about my sex life,” Cas dropped his gaze from Dean’s, because there was a very _loud_ voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to give Dean the book, give him the book, give him the damn BOOK! “Don’t go looking for the novel.”

“No promises, Cas. Perhaps I want to know what my favourite teacher got up to in his youth,” Dean hummed, and Cas snapped his eyes back to Dean. A tension struck up between them, but Cas couldn’t say anything back. Dean licked his lips, a nervous tick Cas had long since learned he had.

So, Dean was _nervous_ around him. While he was deciding whether that was a good thing or not, the other man decided to continue speaking. “But if it means that much to you, I won’t go looking for it. Can’t help it if the book finds _me_ though,”

“How can an inanimate object find a person, Dean?” There was a sparkle in Dean’s eye that made Cas’ stomach lurch.

“Oh, you know, if the book just _happens_ to appear on my bedside table one night, or just _happens_ to be in my desk drawer one morning, I wouldn’t have been _seeking_ it out. The book would’ve found me. You get me?” Dean raised an eyebrow, and Cas schooled his features into a sober expression.

“I assure you, I don’t.” He _definitely_ does. “It would be dangerous for you to know such intimate details about your professor, Dean,”

“Just like it’s dangerous to know you like your eggs poached, on the runny side, with bacon and cooked tomatoes? Like it’s dangerous to know you have your coffee extra strong with a teaspoon of that fancy honey you buy from the farmer’s market? Like it’s dangerous to know you sleep in nothing but boxers _or_ sprawl out naked on top of your duvet during summer, and in the winter, you either sleep in a matching pyjama set _or_ you strip naked and cocoon yourself in your bedding?” Dean tilted his head, eyebrow still raised. Before Cas could think of a witty retort, the other man waltzed out of the room. “I’m making coffee, and yes, I _know_ you want one.” He yelled up the hallway, lilted voice curling its way back into Cas’ study. _Fuck_.

The rest of the day passed relatively slowly. Cas had no classes on for the Monday, Dean had his Romanticism class with Bela. Cas didn’t hear back from Naomi at all, even during their Zoom meeting with the faculty. He tried not to let that worry him all that much. He did, however, receive a message from Balthazar in the early evening, as he was relaxing on his lounge room couch.

**Balthazar:** _It hasn’t even been a day, and already this lockdown is driving me crazy. Come save me, maybe?_

Cas frowned at the message, hoping against hope his friend was kidding. Before he could send a chastising message back, his phone vibrated with another message from his friend.

**Balthazar:** _Good God, I can hear your frown from here, I was kidding, Castiel! Call me, darling. I miss your voice._

He rolled his eyes and pressed the button next to his friend’s name. The phone only rang once, and he was greeted with Balthazar’s smooth British accent.

“Cassie! So lovely to hear from you,”

“Balthazar, how have you been?” Cas stretched out his legs on the couch, scratching the back of his head.

“I’ve been doing well, what about yourself, you old recluse? A little birdie told me you’ve got yourself a handsome morsel trapped in there with you,”

“How did you know about that?” His sharp tone took him by surprise, and Cas felt his heart rate pick up. There’s nothing wrong with what’s going on in his house, he reminded himself. There is nothing improper about offering a place for a friend escaping an abusive space, even if he _is_ Castiel’s student.

“Calm down, Cassie. Naomi mentioned it in passing just before our afternoon class started,”

“Right, I forgot you were both running a class together,”

“Well, she’s monitoring me for the rest of the semester as I teach young adults about how best to write fiction,” Cas could hear the eyeroll in his words. “I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘running a class together’. Stop distracting me. Go on, spill! Who’s the student you’ve got staying with you indefinitely?”

“It’ll probably only be until the lockdown stops, and he’ll find his own space,”

“ _Oooh_ , it’s a _male_ student. Pray tell, is it your friend, the mechanic with the classic car who looks like he could be a model? What’s his name, again? Jason? Tom? Eric?”

“It’s Dean, Dean Winchester. Where are you getting these names from?” Cas frowned. “Don’t tell me you have a list of students you want to sleep with in a little black book somewhere,” The silence was telling, and Cas scoffed. “You’re insufferable,”

“You love me. Come on now, have you two bumped uglies yet?”

“Jesus Christ, Balth, he’s my _student_!” Cas flushed.

“And?”

“ _And_ that’s not exactly protocol, now, is it?”

“All I’m hearing is if this Winchester boy wasn’t your student, you would already be fucking him on every surface in your house, and wouldn’t have time to chat to little old me. Am I right?”

“He’s not a boy, he’s only a year younger than me,” Cas bit his lip as he heard Balthazar’s laughter trickle through his phone.

“Thank you, Castiel, for confirming my suspicions. I give you until the end of the three weeks. If you two haven’t done _anything_ that would cause the faculty to raise their eyebrows― and that includes pashing, you deviant― then I’ll back off and stop teasing,”

“Oh thank God,” Cas sighed. Balthazar made a questioning noise. “I thought you were going to inform our superiors,”

“Cassie, do you really think so lowly of me? Besides, even if I wasn’t a loyal friend, you’ve got enough blackmail on me to ruin me as well. The whole ‘if I go down, we go down together’ dealio,”

“I only know of one,” Cas paused. “Wait, have you slept with students since last summer?”

“Remember New Years, that _ménage_ _á douze_ you opted out of?”

“Balthazar, I thought you were kidding!”

“Nope. Three of the boys are currently students of mine. I’ve obviously told them not to say anything. I didn’t pull those names I mentioned before out of thin air, darling,” Balthazar yawned. “Curse this stupid quarantine, throwing my sleep routine out the window,”

“It’s only been one day. You’re just using it as an excuse,”

“It’s a valid excuse, and I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth. You’d be wise to do the same, Cassie, and screw that student’s brains out. You can blame it on quarantine,”

“That’s just...” Cas knew he was being baited, so he took a deep breath and tried again. “You’re tired, and you should go to sleep before you say something you’ll regret. Goodnight, Balthazar.”

“Goodnight, Cassie. Sleep tight, and be sure to let the sex bugs bite!” Balthazar’s cackle was cut off by Cas hanging up on him. He threw his phone down next to him and rubbed his temples as the beginnings of a headache starting to creep in.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was soft, but it still made Castiel jump.

“Dean!” He held his hand to his chest as he turned his head to see the man leaning against the archway between the kitchen and the lounge room, biting his lip. “You’re quiet, holy shit. Sorry, I―”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for. I guess I’ve just learned to be quiet over the years,” He chuckled. Cas knew he was staring at the man, but he couldn’t help it. Dean had _no right_ looking that delicious in those sweatpants and his Black Sabbath tee. “I was just gonna ask, did you want me to cook some dinner, or were you thinking of ordering in tonight?” Cas snapped his eyes back to Dean’s.

“Uh, I’m happy to cook. I think I’ve got ingredients for tacos,”

“No, please, let me. You’ve already done so much for me,”

“Dean, you’re not in my debt. I hope you’re not going to go out of your way to find a way to repay me for your room or something,”

“Castiel,” Dean rested his hands on his hips and tilted his head. He pursed his lips, and Cas fought hard against his desire to get up from the couch and kiss the harsh lines on his face away, until he melted into him like ice-cream on the Fourth of July. “You know me. I’m going to find a way to repay you for everything you’ve done because you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty as a friend for me. It seems only fair,” He raised an eyebrow, as if daring Cas to challenge him. The heat in his eyes made Cas’ gut churn, and he couldn’t argue against him even if he tried. “That’s what I thought. I’m cooking, and that’s that. If you think of anything else you want me to do, let me know.” With that, he slunk off to the kitchen. Cas could think of a million things he could get Dean to do if he truly wanted to thank him, but most of them fall firmly into the ‘morally wrong’ category. He wrung his hand around his neck before getting up. Dean may be adamant about cooking dinner, but he cannot stop Cas from making margaritas to go with their tacos.

Cas’ phone dinged as he placed it down on the counter, and he saw a message from Balthazar. He sighed before he opened the message.

**Balthazar:** _Just some ideas of what you and your boy-toy can get up to in the big house of yours._

There was a hyperlink in the message, and Cas felt his cheeks go dark red. He could understand enough of the link to know not to open it in the kitchen, especially with Dean so close by. He locked his phone and turned towards his alcohol cabinet.

“What’re you doing, Cas?”

“Making frozen margaritas,” Cas grabbed the alcohol, giving the bottles a shake as he made his way back to the counter. “Did you want one?”

“I’ll never turn down alcohol,” He winked, and Cas smiled.

“Only two each, though, and we ought to pace ourselves. Class tomorrow,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“One class tomorrow, and it’s Rufus’ Editing and Publishing class,”

“Oh, that’s a good class,” Cas commented, as he filled up his blender with crushed ice from his fridge. The fridge was Castiel’s pride and joy in the kitchen. It was fitted with a mechanic that gives filtered cold water, crushed ice, and full ice cubes with just a press of a button. He pulled his bottle of lime juice out from the door of the fridge before bumping it shut with his hip. “I was almost going to teach that class as well, but Naomi told me I’m taking on enough as it is,” He turned around and made a tutting noise. “But that doesn’t excuse you from attending the class with a hangover,”

“Aw, but I’m living with an _actual_ editor now, that’s gotta amount to something!” Dean smirked as the mince sizzled in the pan. Cas shook his head as he poured the shots of tequila and triple sec into the ice.

“It’ll amount to my foot in your ass if you’re not careful.” He murmured as he eyeballed roughly a cup of juice to go with the ice and alcohol. Dean snorted, and they continued to wander around each-other smoothly in the kitchen. There was an unknowable pattern between them― each step looked calculated and practiced, but they moved in synch without much thought.

Dinner was quiet enough affair, the two of them only making small talk until Cas filled up their glasses with the second serving of frozen margarita.

“So, Balthazar...” Dean ran his finger over the rim of his glass, pushing the salt into his drink. Cas cocked an eyebrow.

“What about him?”

“Was that who you were talking to earlier?”

“It was,” Cas took a sip of his drink, still keeping his eyebrow raised. “Why do you ask?”

“Is...is he a boyfriend or something?” Dean licked his lips, wincing when his tongue grabbed a granule of salt from the corners of his mouth. Cas smirked.

“No. I mean, we’ve fooled around a few times, nothing too serious though, I’m not interested in him like that,” He watched as Dean’s shoulders relaxed slightly, which intrigued him. “Careful, Dean. I might almost think you’re jealous,”

“I’d be jealous if you consider him more a friend than me,” He offered Cas a lazy smirk, and Cas couldn’t hold back his chuckle.

“My friendship with Balthazar’s different to my friendship with you, Dean,”

“Oh really? Because you’ll fool around with him, but not me?” Dean kept his smile on his face, but there was a quiver in his jaw.

“Mr Winchester, you’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?” Cas asked dryly, flashing Dean a wolfish grin. The sparkle in Dean’s eyes grew, and Castiel was treated with his favourite laugh― the student threw his head back, mouth wide open as he laughed raucously, cheeks flushed rosy warm. He held his hand to his chest as he simmered down to small huffs of laughter. “But seriously, Dean, why are you asking?” Something in the question sobered Dean up. His eyes became sharp, and the flush on his cheeks spread to his neck. Silence fell between them, and Cas was the first to break the stare-down. “I think that’s probably enough for tonight. What time did you say your class was tomorrow morning?”

“Ten, which won’t be too bad if I try and rest now,” Dean mumbled, dropping his gaze to his watch.

“Did you want me to wake you tomorrow? I’ve got my American Lit class at eleven, so we could have breakfast together. Might even make some pancakes,” He cleared both their plates and glasses and made his way towards the sink. Lethargy hit him as he rinsed the dishes. He’ll have time to wash them properly tomorrow, so he let the dishes rest before coming back to the dining room, tilting his head in question.

“Uh, sure, if you wanna, that’d be great,” He yawned. “G’night Cas.”

“Night, Dean.”

Cas wandered into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Sealed away from Dean, he let out a heavy sigh. Balthazar just _had_ to make him hyper-aware of Dean tonight, didn’t he? At the thought of his friend, Cas remembered the message Balthazar had sent earlier in the night. He waited until he heard Dean walking down the hallway into his room. He listened in the darkness of his bedroom for his companion to turn on his shower, and only once he heard the water rushing from the guest ensuite, Castiel stepped blindly towards his bed, throwing his phone onto the duvet before stripping completely naked.

He pulled the necessary items out of his side drawer; his headphones, lubricant, and wet wipes. He made sure his headphones were plugged in and working by listening to the last thing on his Spotify playlist. Once he was sure everything was in perfect working order, he went to the link Balthazar provided him.

It was a Pornhub link, and Cas was fully prepared to deal with it this time. He was sent to the gay subcategory, which didn’t surprise him. He was surprised to find, however, the link led to a new section he didn’t know the gay subcategory had―teacher/student relationships. Cas rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t judge himself too harshly, not with the lingering tension from dinner pulsating in his right hand. It was only after he’d bit down harshly on his bottom lip to quell the sound of his orgasm, and he wiped away all traces of his indiscretion that he allowed his conscience to swoop in to berate him. Perhaps the margaritas did more to him than he first considered because he didn’t stop himself from tapping out a message to Balthazar.

**Castiel:** _I don’t know whether to say, ‘fuck you’ or ‘thank you’, you asshole._

Cas let out a bone-deep groan as he flicked off his bedside light, and began to wrap his duvet around his body like a cocoon. It was cold enough to justify nestling into the down-feathered blanket, and he tried to imagine the blanket was arms holding him tightly. He vehemently refused, however, to pretend his imaginary cuddle-buddy had green eyes, freckles and a sunny smile. His phone lit up, and Cas glared at the brightness of his phone’s screen to read the message.

**Balthazar:** _Darling, you know to me it’s the same thing. Just fuck him out of your system, and you’ll be happy as Larry in no time! I know you love me. Xxx_

Cas threw his head into his pillow with a muffled ‘thunk’. He switched his alarms on, plugged his phone on charge, and rolled over to fall asleep. Counting sheep had never been so frustrating, especially since the sheep were looking more and more like green-eyed students that have no business belonging in Castiel’s dreams. Fuck Balthazar very much, indeed.


End file.
